


the one where derek ends up in various costumes (no, not like that)

by thestarkinmypants (inlightofvisa), whereisthebepis (inlightofvisa)



Series: The McCall-Hale Diaries [33]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 04:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlightofvisa/pseuds/thestarkinmypants, https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlightofvisa/pseuds/whereisthebepis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Halloween shenanigans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cat (or the one where Derek will not wear a tail, thank you very much)

**Author's Note:**

> http://indecentdrawer.tumblr.com/post/33433475971/and-so-it-begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek can haz cat.

Really, the trouble all starts when Mom tries to force Derek to go trick-or-treating with them. It’s Laura’s first year of college, and Derek feels like he’s started to grow out of trick-or-treating. He’s _ten_ for heaven’s sake, who wants to even dress up in a stupid costume anymore?

“But we’ve gone as a family every year!” Mom says, brushing her hair behind her ears and leveling her trademark Mom Glare at him.

“And Stiles!” Stiles chirps, raising his hand and then proceeding to flap around Derek and Scott like a bird. Scott starts to chase his friend, and the two circle each Derek like a dangerous, terrifying, five-year old cyclone. Derek stares blankly back at Mom.

“Family and Stiles,” Mom amends, coughing slightly. Derek crosses his arms and slouches.

“Well then how come _Laura_ isn’t here,” he asks. He’s going to fight Mom to be able to not trick-or-treat. It’s for babies. Derek is _not_ a baby. He’s right about to be eleven, and mature eleven year-olds don’t go out in stupid costume and get candy for looking cute.

“Laura’s in college now,” Mom says, sighing and rolling her eyes. “If I had a means to get her back home for this, you know I would. But it’s not that easy to justify flying a plane across the country for just a weekend.” Scott finally manages to tackle Stiles, bringing them down to the floor in a tangle of limbs and happy shouts.

“Oh come on, Derek,” Scott pants from where he’s sprawled across Stiles.

“Please please _please_ , with a cherry on top!” Stiles wheedles, kicking Scott’s arms and trying to free himself from the Scott-cage. He looks like a beetle that got flipped on his back.

“Please!” Scott whines, drawing out the “e.” Derek can just hear it stretch through the air like a piece of gum being pulled off the bottom of a desk. He huffs angrily, crossing his arms even tighter.

“Ugh, fine,” he says. “As long as you two stop whining. And no costumes!”

Scott bolts to his feet, face in a pout. “What? No! Derek!” He grabs a corner of Derek’s shirt, starting to ruffle it up and down. It tickles in an annoying way. Stiles follows suit.

“It’s Halloween, you have to!” he wibbles, eyes on the verge of tears. Derek stares at him murderously.

“Derek,” Mom says. “You’re going to make them cry.”

“I don’t even have a costume planned!” Derek says, throwing his arms up in frustration. “I wasn’t going to go trick-or-treating tonight!” Scott gets a look in his eyes as he lets go of Derek’s shirt.

“I think I saw some things in Laura’s room,” he says, zooming off as fast as his little legs can take him. Derek’s eyes nearly bug out of his head as he tries to move after Scott. Stiles, though, has managed to make himself a tiny human brick incapable of movement, arms thrown around Derek’s waist in a hug.

“No!” Derek calls after Scott. “Stiles, get _off_ of me!”

“No, you need to know that you’re the best for taking us!” Stiles squeals, smushing his face into Derek’s side. “Scott-and-Derek’s Mom, Derek is the bestest!”

Mom _cackles_ because she’s the worst. Derek wishes he could kill people just by looking at them. He settles for just grimacing at Mom. “He sure is,” she says, holding a hand up to her mouth to try and stifle more laughter. And that’s when Scott gets back into the living room, holding a pair of cat ears.

“I found something!” he announces, looking proud of himself. Derek blanches.

“Scott, no,” he says. “No way. No!”

* * *

 

 Mrs. Villalobo’s house is first, since she lives right next door.

“Trick or treat!” Scott and Stiles chorus as she walks out onto the porch. Mrs. Villalobo surveys the three of them, candy bowl in hand. Stiles is dressed up in a miniature version of his father’s uniform, Scott looks like a cross between a mime and a small pirate, and Derek… is very reluctantly wearing a pair of cat ears. She laughs, white wiry curls bouncing as she hands candy out to the three of them.

“Happy Halloween, boys!” she says cheerily. “Where’s Laura?”

“College,” Derek sulks. Mrs. Villalobo looks up back at Melissa, who’s trying her hardest not to laugh.

“Good thing Scott and Stiles have you to go with them,” she says, holding up two king size candy bars before she puts them in his bag. “These are special for you.” She pulls Derek into a hug, kissing him on the forehead. “Have a fun rest of the night, Derek!”

Derek looks slightly less disgruntled as he turns over the Milky Way and Three Musketeers bars.

“Thanks, Mrs. Villalobo,” he says finally. “Happy Halloween.”

* * *

 

Laura scampers around her room, rooting through her desk and overturning the contents of her entire wardrobe. Caitlin, her roommate, peeks her head in.

“Are you ready?” she asks, drumming her fingers on the wall and bobbing her head to make her bunny ears wiggle. “The Omega Lambda Phi boys aren’t going to wait forever!”

“Hold on,” Laura says, running a hand through her hair. “I could’ve _sworn_ I brought them with me!” She goes through all her desk drawers again.

“Brought what?” Caitlin singsongs, unwrapping a lollipop and sticking it in her mouth. It matches her lip gloss.

“My cat ears!” Laura sighs, closing the last of her drawers. “What can I go as now?”

Caitlin sucks on her lollipop pensively before skipping across the room and pulling a pair of fairy wings out of her dresser. “Woodland fairy!” she says excitedly. Laura gives her a look.

“Caitlin, there’s _no way_ -“

“Omega Lambda Phi,” Caitlin says resolutely, slipping one of Laura’s arms through the straps. “You need a costume. We’re going.”


	2. Mummy (or, the one where Derek nearly went as school lunch)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek has to take Scott and Stiles out for Halloween. Again. Why can he never catch a break?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet jesus I didn't mean for this to take such a long time here you all go
> 
> http://indecentdrawer.tumblr.com/post/33466547109/derek-is-not-a-monkey-fart  
> Accompanying comic. 
> 
> Also, the characters of Rachel and Ryan will be making a reprise in a different series from my friend and me. We're still working through it right now so y'all will see it in the near (or distant, meaning sometime later this year) future.

 

Mom breaks the news to Derek over breakfast.

“I have the graveyard shift tonight,” she says, as Derek’s mouth is full of cereal. Derek resists the urge to spit, forcing the pulpy gross mess down his throat. Mom watches him tentatively, lips pursed and fingers drumming the counter. Derek finishes swallowing.

“But you _promised_ ,” he says, attempting not to whine. He fails miserably, because Mom gives him a patronizing look before slipping an arm around his shoulders in an attempt at a hug.

“I know,” she says, looking a little remorseful. “But you know more than anyone that I can’t skip out on work. I asked my boss to let me have tonight off, but it appears that my pleas have gone unheard.”

“You should punch him,” Derek grumbles, attempting to scowl around another bite of cereal. “This just means I have to take Scott and Stiles trick-or-treating.” Mom coughs to hide a laugh, covering her smile with her hand.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” she says, kissing him on the head. “Do you have a costume thought up yet?”

“No,” Derek says, crunching his cereal with maybe a little more force than necessary. “No cats, though.”

“No cats,” Mom agrees, hugging him again. “Now get yourself to school. I’m sure your friends might have ideas.”

* * *

 

 Rachel and Ryan are, predictably, no help at all. Ryan’s ideas are too farfetched and Rachel’s ideas involve too much needlework.

“Rachel, I’m _not_ going as a black-haired Roxas! Where am I going to find a freaking floor-length black robe in just a few hours?”

Rachel crinkles her nose as she chews the food-shaped objects that the lunch ladies deemed edible. Derek _thinks_ it’s a sandwich, but then again, nobody can ever be sure what black magic goes on behind closed doors. Derek vehemently insists on bringing his own lunch.

“Well, you _could_ go to a costume store,” Ryan says unhelpfully. Derek fixes him with a glare, and Ryan shrugs. “What, I’m just helping Rachel help _you_ look halfway decent for tonight.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to be so surly,” Rachel says, opting to spit out whatever she had been eating. “And don’t eat school lunch. I swear it’s just repurposed dead people.”

“Hey, there’s an idea,” Ryan says. Derek freezes.

“I am _not_ going as school lunch,” he says, jabbing a finger at the twins. They shake their heads in unison.

“Mummy,” they say at the same time. Derek buries his head in his arms because his life is the worst.

“I’d be happy to wrap you in toilet paper,” Ryan says. “You really didn’t have to ask.”

“I didn’t,” Derek groans. “Why are we friends again?”

“We have hot bodies,” Rachel deadpans. “You’re not in this for our personalities.”

* * *

 

 Ryan and Rachel come over after school to help Derek get ready, filling the candy bowls to overflowing. Scott comes home in the middle of the theatrics, and Rachel is inevitably dragged away by puppy eyes to play video games with him. At least until Stiles comes over, or so Scott says. Derek fears for her sanity. And Scott’s happiness, because Rachel has mad video game skills. Ryan’s words, not his.

“Okay,” Ryan says, rooting through the closets for toilet paper rolls, “We gotta get you ready.”

“We’re not leaving for at least another five hours,” Derek says flatly, splayed face down on his bed. “Don’t start this torture any earlier than it needs to.”

“Rachel and I have our own things to do, too,” Ryan says, indignant. Derek can hear the eye roll, but he can’t be brought to care.

“What could slightly cool Asian eleven year-olds have to do on Halloween?” he snarks. Ryan tosses a toilet paper roll at him, and it bounces off his headboard. “Nice aim, loser.”

“Shut up,” Ryan hisses, throwing another toilet paper roll at him. This one hits Derek’s head. “Okay, let’s get you wrapped.”

Derek reluctantly stands up and lets Ryan wrap his limbs sloppily in toilet paper.

“Quit moving so much!” Ryan says when he’s halfway up Derek’s chest.

“I’m not even moving,” Derek says, twisting sharply. The strip of toilet paper breaks. Ryan howls and tackles him to the ground. Derek responds in kind, and before they’re really aware of anything, they’ve wrestled their way out of Derek’s room and onto the top of the stairs.

“Derek,” Ryan says, panting. “At this rate, you’re not gonna even have a decent costume.”

“Then quit being so obnoxious about it!” Derek shouts.

“Both of you stop,” Rachel says from the bottom of the stairs, hands on her tiny eleven year-old hips. “Or I’ll wrap _everyone_ in toilet paper.”

Derek struggles to his feet, and helps Ryan up.

“I’ll be fast, I promise,” Ryan grumbles, walking back towards Derek’s room. Rachel glares at Derek, and for once he finds himself on the receiving end of his broodiness (Ryan’s words, not his). He flinches and goes back to let Ryan finish.

By the time Rachel and Ryan’s mom comes to pick them up, Derek is fully clad in mummy regalia. Ryan had done a fairly good job, leaving space for Derek’s mouth and eyes, and he’d even let some of Derek’s hair peek through.

“Have a good time, Derek,” Rachel says sweetly, giving him a hug. Ryan just bumps his shoulder.

“Good luck, bro,” he says before they close the door. Derek sighs in resignation.

* * *

 

 Stiles and his dad show up an hour later, bearing food.

“Thanks for dinner, Sheriff,” Derek says as he gets plates out from the cabinets.

“Hey, it’s the least I can do to repay you guys for foisting Stiles on you for the next four hours of sugar-induced craziness,” he says, clapping Derek on the shoulder. Derek sighs heavily.

“Hey!” Stiles says. “I’m right here! Wait, what’s froisting?”

The sheriff gives Derek a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, I have the night shift as well,” he says. “Otherwise you full well know that I’d take the boys out.”

Derek nods glumly.

* * *

 

 They’re out the door and onto the streets at 8:00 sharp, mainly because Scott and Stiles had gotten bored with the video game that they’d been playing. The evening goes mostly without fanfare, and Derek thinks that it’s possible that he may be enjoying himself. Up until Scott loses his Peter Pan hat. He tugs on Derek’s toilet-papered arm.

“Derek,” he whines. “I lost my hat.”

Derek sighs. “Why did you take it off?” he asks. “You were supposed to keep it on! I knew this was going to happen.”

“It got itchy,” Scott wails. “And I need it; if I don’t have it nobody will know that I’m Peter Pan!”

Derek rolls his eyes. “It’s your fault, Scott,” he says matter-of-factly. “I told you to keep it on, and you didn’t.”

Scott’s face puckers up, and Derek can _feel_ the impending explosion of tears. “It’s not my fault!” Scott cries, rubbing at his eyes. “I want Mom! Why isn’t she here?”

“She’s working,” Derek explains, but it doesn’t do anything to stop Scott’s sobs. Being logical never gets Derek anywhere, apparently. Stiles hugs his friend, alligator tail swishing back and forth.

“Derek, stop being so mean! You don’t have to be such a monkey fart about it.”

Derek cringes, noticing the other parents and their kids stopping to look at them. He loses it. A little. “Wait, what? I wasn’t—no I didn’t—Scott, don’t cry!” He tears a piece of his chest wrappings off and hands it to Scott to dab at his eyes. Luckily, Charmin is strong enough to stand up to Scott-level tears. “You make a great Peter Pan, even without the hat.”

Scott sniffs before throwing himself at Derek’s chest.

“You’re not lying?” he wibbles. Derek shakes his head, sitting them both down on the sidewalk.

“No, I’m not,” he says, dabbing at Scott’s face with more toilet paper. Thank heavens for Ryan’s amazing wrap job. “In fact, you don’t need that hat to make people believe you’re Peter Pan. You do such a good job without it.”

“Really?” Scott asks, pulling Stiles to sit down with them.

“Yeah!” Stiles chirps, pulling his alligator hat off. “See, you can borrow my hat, and you can be Peter Pan, the fearless crocodile that ate Captain Hook’s hand!”

Scott rubs at his eyes and gives his friend a teary smile.

“Okay,” he says, placing the hat on his head. Derek smiles at the two of them.

“Ready to hit the last block?” he says, holding a hand out for each of them. Stiles takes his right hand, Scott his left.

“And then we have to see Mrs. Villalobo!” Scott chirps wetly. Derek nods, laughing.

“We can’t forget about her,” he says.


	3. Frankenstein (or, the one where Derek might be adopted)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To be fair, snot and puke are pretty gross.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon said: “can we get an olderbrother!derek based off this post can scott and stiles beg derek to go trick or treating with them on halloween and derek agrees to go because of stiles and at one door scott does that ^ and derek gives him that look and gives up and just walks away pls i would love you 5ever c:”  
> He didn’t walk away. I hope you will still love me 5ever because I like people loving me 5ever.
> 
> a/n: Also this is horrendously late because school happened and I am a horrible person I am sorry apologizing 5ever
> 
> http://indecentdrawer.tumblr.com/post/33856210376/thats-not-what
> 
> a/n: For reference, Derek is 12 going on 13 in this installment. Scott and Stiles are 7.

 

Mom doesn’t even have the decency to confront Derek in person this year about taking the boys trick-or-treating, she flat-out just leaves a note on the table that says _trick or treat? thx d. luv u –mom_. Mom’s the worst, Derek thinks as he chomps down angrily on his spoon, almost cracking a tooth. He must seem extra scowl-y at school because even Ryan notices, and Ryan _never_ notices the subtle things. Rachel handles subtlety for the two of them, and Ryan takes care of the overt stuff.

“Gotta take the kids out again?” he asks, laughing at him from across the lunch table. Derek wishes he was wearing the new steel-toed boots Mom got him as he kicks Ryan in the shins. “Ow, jeez!”

Rachel narrows her eyes at both of them. “You guys are acting like _children_ ,” she says as she daintily nibbles at her sandwich.

“ _You’re_ the child,” Ryan parrots back, making an unsightly face. Derek snorts.

“What are you guys doing this year for Halloween?”

The twins shrug in unison. “I think I might be going to Jason’s costume party,” Ryan says finally. “I have a Nightwing costume put together.”

“But not the body to pull it off,” Rachel snickers. Derek guffaws, and Ryan shoots them both scathing glares.

“I hate you both, and we aren’t friends anymore,” he grumbles into his food.

“Can’t do that, Ryebread,” Rachel says patronizingly. “The three of us are pretty much family, and you can’t get rid of family.”

“I can do my best to disown you,” Ryan huffs. Derek laughs again.

“I nominate you for Worst Brother Award,” he says. Rachel raises her hand in agreement, and Ryan sinks further into his chair. “I’m totally kidding, you know!”

Ryan wrinkles his nose before picking up the remnants of his lunch and his backpack. “Sure, yeah, okay. Have fun with the kids tonight, Mr. Mom.” Derek stares after him, mouth open wide.

“You take that back, Ryan!”

Rachel pats him on the arm. “Personally, _I_ think it’s a compliment.” Derek sighs.

* * *

 

 Derek tries yet again to get out of taking the boys trick-or-treating by pulling the “you’re old enough to go yourselves” card. But Mom, scheming wily woman that she is, has built in a failsafe.

“Mom said we can’t go unless you’re with us!” Scott whines, tugging on Derek’s sleeve. “I promise I won’t cry this year and I’ll keep my costume all together this year, I won’t lose anything I promise!”

Stiles clings to Derek’s other sleeve, tugging occasionally and making the wettest puppy eyes at him. “Please, Derek?” he asks.

“Snot’s gross,” Derek maintains, resolutely not looking Stiles in the eyes. Scott wails loudly.

“I promise I won’t cry this year!” he says, squeezing his eyes shut and hugging Derek’s arm to his chest in a vise of love. Derek grunts. “You’re my favorite brother in the whole world!”

“I’m your _only_ brother, Scott,” Derek says.

“Pleeeeease?” Stiles says. Scott joins in, and Derek finds himself in the middle of an ocean of _please Derek_ ’s and _Halloween candy is the_ best _candy Derek, don’t you believe me_? He’s only one person, and one person can only take so much from wheedling seven year-olds, especially the ones that have perfected puppy eyes and made them an art form, holy crap.

“If I say yes, will you let go of me?” he says finally, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Scott answers with a jubilant “yes” as Stiles whines a wounded “noooooooooo.” Stiles clings to Derek’s arm tighter.

“Stiles!” Scott says, looking at his friend with a pout. “Derek said he would!”

“Oh,” Stiles says, looking sheepish and letting go of Derek’s arm. “Yes?”

Derek brushes his sleeves off and heads for his room. Luckily, he’d had the twins help him make a costume a few weeks before and honestly, it’s a little sad that he can anticipate being the Halloween chaperone for his kid brother and said brother’s friend. “Do you need help with your costume?” Scott calls after him.

“Nah, it’s okay,” Derek says, “I got one already.”

“Make sure it’s cool!” Scott shouts excitedly. Derek resists the urge to recant his promise of taking them out.

“Bye Derek!” Stiles calls gleefully.

“Yeah, Derek mutters. “See ya later.”

* * *

 

 The sheriff takes the boys for dinner and Derek breathes a sigh of relief as they walk through the doors of the building, thanking the tiny waitress very quietly for their small corner booth.

“So,” the sheriff says after they’ve ordered, “What are you going as this year, Derek? I know that Stiles has been working on his alpha wolf costume for a few weeks.”

“I’m going as a vampire!” Scott says between sips of his milkshake. Derek attempts not to laugh.

“My friends helped me make a Frankenstein costume,” he says as he steals a gulp of Scott’s drink. Scott resists howling at the top of his lungs and settles for smacking Derek on the arm. The sheriff smiles.

“That’s great,” he says, pulling the ketchup bottle out of Stiles’ hands. “Stiles, don’t play with this, you’re going to make a mess of yourself.”

“But I’m an alpha wolf,” Stiles says, attempting to growl menacingly. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m the father of the alpha wolf,” the sheriff says, uncapping the bottle and pouring a fairly generous glob of red dipping goo on Stiles’ plate. “So you listen to me and eat your curly fries once they’re here.”

“Yes sir!” Stiles says enthusiastically, bouncing in his seat.

* * *

 

 The rest of dinner goes smoothly, the sheriff treating them all to a hearty helping of pie and ice cream to finish the meal off.

“This way, the boys won’t be tempted to eat their candy because they’ll be full,” he whispers conspiratorially. Derek snorts.

“It’s a fantastic idea,” he says, smiling. “Now if only I didn’t have to take them every year.” The sheriff rolls his eyes before sweeping Derek into a bone-crushing hug.

“Hey, your mom and I both appreciate the fact that you take your brother and Stiles out trick-or-treating. You should be really proud that your mom trusts you to handle the two of them together.” He looks over at the two boys in the backseat, both of whom are vibrating with energy. “Are you guys ready for some trick-or-treating?”

“Yes!” comes the excited answer. Derek just sighs heavily.

“Thanks for the ride, Sheriff.”

“Thank you for the yummy dinner!” Scott says, flinging the door open and almost falling out of the car.

“Thanks daddy,” Stiles says, tumbling after Scott. “I’ll be sure to save you some candy!”

“You be on your best behavior for Derek,” the sheriff calls after them. “And make sure to thank him too!”

* * *

 

 Mrs. Villalobo’s house is first this year, and Scott spends an inordinate amount of time fussing with his teeth and his cape on her doorstep.

“Scott, are you ready _yet_?” Derek asks, rolling his eyes. Scott shakes his head vigorously, hair bouncing.

“Err’thing hath to be _perhect_ , Derek,” he explains, trying to talk his way around the plastic teeth in his mouth. Scott then proceeds to flatten out his vest and dress shirt before fluffing up his ascot that Derek tied for him before they left, thank you very much. “Okay, I’m ready.” He looks at Stiles. “You can ring the bell now!”

Stiles pushes the small tiny silvery button and they listen to the tinkling chime of Mrs. Villalobo’s doorbell. Footsteps patter up to the door and there’s a clink of rings on a bowl before the door swings open.

“Hello boys,” Mrs. Villalobo says warmly.

“Trick or treat!” Scott and Stiles both yell, Scott pulling himself into what Derek thinks is an attempt at a fearsome vampire pose.

“Oh my,” Mrs. Villalobo says, holding the bowl in front of herself as an offering. “Take these instead of me, they’re much tastier!” Scott smiles brightly as he takes a handful of candy and stuffs it into his pillowcase.

“Thanks Mrs. Villalobo!”

Stiles follows suit, and Derek once again ends up with king size candy bars (for the third year in a row) from the little old lady. He gives her a fond smile. “Thanks so much,” he says.

“You boys have a safe evening!” she calls after them as they walk on to the next house. Derek waves at her before turning to Scott.

“What the heck was that,” he asks flatly. Scott huffs in annoyance.

“It was called having _fun_ , something _you_ wouldn’t understand,” he says, pulling a Reese’s from his candy sack. “Stiles, do you wanna trade me a Reese’s for a Milky Way?”

“Done deal!” Stiles says, swapping the candies. He pops open the Reese’s package happily. Derek glares at him.

“Stiles, your dad said not to eat all your candy so that better be your last one for the night.”

Stiles just pouts at him, mouth full and cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. “I’m an alpha wolf, I don’t listen to the undead!”

“Yeah Derek,” Scott says while unwrapping the Milky Way, “You don’t get to order Stiles around, he’s not your brother.”

“I’m babysitting both of you, so he has to listen to me otherwise he’s getting in trouble,” Derek snarks back, scratching at where the bolts are attached to his neck. “You especially have to listen to me, unless you think you’re adopted.”

Scott balls his little fists up and stomps. “Dad said that’s a lie!”

Derek shrugs. “Maybe I’m adopted then,” he says easily. Scott furrows his brow.

“But you and Laura aren’t adopted! Laura’s my sister, and you’re related to Laura, and I’m related to Laura!”

“You don’t know that,” Derek says wryly. “Stiles, seriously, last piece of candy.”

“Alpha wolf,” Stiles says, gesturing to himself, “I don’t have to listen to the undead.”

Derek groans.


	4. Batman (or, the one where Derek is not your drool rag thank you very much)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek can be the knight of the night, or a drool bucket. This is an either/or deal, there are no ands involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS IS SO LATE WHEN IS THE LAST TIME I UPDATED THIS SERIES I AM A HORRIBLE HUMAN BYE

* * *

 

Derek doesn’t even bother making any excuses with Mom. She just looks at him cautiously before mouthing a quiet “thank you,” and then running to work. Rachel and Ryan know both know better than to ask if he’s going to Kenna’s party that night, and Halloween dinner with the sheriff is now an easy thing. The sheriff presses a bag of Warheads into Derek’s hands before they leave the diner.

“Don’t be a sourpuss tonight, okay? The boys really like it when you take them out trick-or-treating,” he says, a quiet smile on his face. Derek looks down at the bag of candies in his hands.

“Is this a joke?” he asks. The sheriff laughs. “Thanks, these are my favorite.”

“A little motormouth told me,” the sheriff replies, holding up a hand and poking it in Stiles’ direction. “Hope you guys have a good time tonight.”

* * *

 

 Mrs. Villalobo’s house is first on the list this year. The boys get the standard fun size grab bag, and Derek gets his usual king-sized candy bar. He protests a little, but it’s very difficult to persuade an old woman once she’s made her mind up.

“Oh hush, you take it! What else am I going to do with it?” she asks him as they watch the boys walk down her driveway. “There’s really nobody else who comes by here every year who deserves it more than you.”

“Taking them out isn’t really a chore,” Derek says automatically. “It’s… just I don’t enjoy it all the time. Babysitting in a costume for free isn’t exactly my idea of fun.”

“So consider this your reward,” Mrs. Villalobo prods, shooing him away. “I’ll see you later, Derek!”

Derek frowns as he runs after Scott and Stiles, his black cape billowing behind him.

* * *

 

 Stiles insists on running everywhere because he’s the Flash, Derek, the Flash _has_ to be fast! He makes a show of running laps around one of the cul-de-sacs before Scott makes a point that the longer Stiles keeps moving in circles, the less time they have to retrieve candy.

“Good thinking, Superman,” Stiles huffs as he runs back towards them. “It was a great idea to bring you along tonight instead of Green Lantern.”

“Hey,” Derek huffs, “I almost chose that as my costume instead. Watch it.”

“I did,” Stiles replies. “I saw it with Scott and the movie was so baaaaad.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Scott says, and Derek has to admit that sometimes, his little brother isn’t that awful. He still has a conscience. “But I do agree, it wasn’t worth how much money those tickets were.”

Derek was wrong. Scott is the worst.

* * *

 

 “Thank you, Happy Halloween!” Scott says merrily as they leave the last house. “Wow, we just got a _lot_ of candy. D’you think we got more than last year, Stiles?”

Stiles trudges slowly behind him, lips pulled down at the corners. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Maybe people were just more generous this year, because I’m pretty sure we hit the same number of houses,” Scott muses as his Superman cape swishes behind him. “Or maybe people recognize us and give us more candy because they like us.”

“I think we went to more houses this year,” Stiles says. “My feet hurt so bad.”

“That’s because you insisted on running _everywhere_ ,” Derek retorts, as he shifts his bag of candy. “I told you to pace yourself.”

“But Derek, I’m the Flash!” Stiles whines. “Everyone knows the Flash has to be fast!”

Derek sighs and crouches down, putting his arms behind his back. “Here, get on.”

Stiles looks at him and hesitates. “But…”

“Your feet hurt, right?” Derek asks. “If they don’t, then you can walk, but if they do I’ll carry you home.”

“C’mon Stiles,” Scott says. “Derek’s being nice to you for like the first time ever, don’t let this pass you by.”

Stiles glares at Scott before slowly latching himself onto Derek’s back, hooking his arms over Derek’s shoulders. Derek hefts Stiles upwards, grabbing at the undersides of his thighs. “You okay back there?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says quietly. “Sorry for making you carry me.”

“It’s fine,” Derek replies, waiting for Scott to grab Stiles’ bag of candy before moving towards home. “Just don’t fall asleep on me.”

The walk home is relatively silent, Stiles occasionally asking Scott something about a ridiculous topic or a comic book hero, but for the most part, he’s quiet. Which is disconcerting to Derek because Stiles is loud. Stiles is noisy. When Stiles is not noisy, he’s sick. Or he’s…

“Scott, did he fall asleep on me?”

Scott looks at him sheepishly. “No? Yeah… he did.” Derek sighs as he feels Stiles’ drool pooling on his left shoulder. Luckily, he’s probably never going to wear the Batman costume again so he won’t have to worry about drool stains, but it’s still a disgusting feeling. Scott’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts.

“Derek?”

“Yeah?”

Scott stops walking, poking his fingers together and pointing his toes inwards. He’s never looked this small before. “We’ll always go trick-or-treating together, right?”

Derek grins before crouching down to ruffle Scott’s hair quickly, replacing his hand under Stiles’ thigh. “Yeah, little bro. It’s tradition, after all.”  


	5. Cat in the Hat (or, the one where Derek almost accidentally starts a Halloween fight club)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins come along. It's like fight club, but not because in no universe does fight club exist with a bus sign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, I promised you guys I'd try to write at least one a day and so far I am adhering to this quite well

Mom doesn’t even bother asking this year. Derek just looks at her on Halloween morning while he’s eating his cereal, rolls his eyes, and nods.

“Yes, yes, I’ll do it, you don’t even have to ask.”

“Thanks sweetie,” she says, kissing him on the head. “I’ll be home earlier tonight, so when you guys get back I can help take Stiles home.”

Derek just grunts as he finishes up his breakfast, placing his bowl in the empty sink. “I’ll be sure to tell the sheriff that,” he says.

“Speaking of the sheriff,” Mom says, dusting off her scrubs and toeing into her shoes, “Tell him that I made food for you guys so that way he doesn’t have to keep spending money at the diner. Stiles keeps telling me that I should be making sure that he doesn’t eat such junky stuff.”

“Oh,” Derek says. “Okay, I’ll tell him.”

* * *

 

 “So there’s no party at Kenna’s this year?” Derek asks the twins at lunch. Ryan purses his lips and Rachel shakes her head.

“Nope,” she says as she chews her sandwich thoughtfully. “Can we maybe tag along this year with you? That way we can help you babysit.”

Derek blinks at her. “What?”

“Yeah, you heard her,” Ryan says, putting his elbows on the table and cushioning his cheeks in his hands. “We wanna help you out.”

“I don’t see how that’s very exciting for anyone,” Derek mutters, taking a crunchy bite out of his apple. “It’s not really more than a one man job, the boys don’t really do anything.”

“What if something happens, though?” Rachel asks, closing her Tupperware container with a click. “I mean, they are getting kinda old to be doing themed costumes yeah?”

“What if someone unfortunate asshat bullies them into giving up their candy? What then?” Ryan adds, ogling some lacrosse bro’s ass as he walks by. Derek thinks the guy’s name is Ennis.

“Really, though, you want to come help me babysit a couple of sixth graders on Halloween,” Derek says more than asks, finishing his apple to the core. “You have nothing better to do with your lives.”

“Well, I mean we could do homework like normal high school kids, or even go out and terrorize children. Maybe we could just y’know,” Ryan says, winking at Rachel, “Make your evening interesting.”

“I don’t know if Stiles would be scared by a zombie costume, Ry,” Rachel says, flipping open her history book. “Scott might be if you did something absolutely terrifying, but Stiles wouldn’t really react.”

“And carrying around a giant bus sign while wearing a Japanese school girl uniform truly inspires fear in the hearts of small children,” Ryan shoots back, tone as dry as an old sponge.

“What?” Derek says. “Why are you going to be carrying around a giant bus sign?”

“She’s been on a Persona kick,” Ryan says, taking a long drink from his water bottle. “So are we in?”

Derek looks at his friends—Rachel giving him the most saccharine expression he’s ever seen, and Ryan still chugging water like an animal—and laughs. “Jeez, if you guys really wanted to come this badly, you should’ve asked before.”

“Hey,” Rachel says. “I figure that we should have at least one year where we share your Halloween experience, since you can never come to Kenna’s.”

“Whatever happened to Jason’s parties, by the way?” Derek asks. “It’s like you guys stopped going after middle school.”

“Oh, Jason didn’t really appreciate our costume styles,” Ryan replies. “Complained that I always showed too much skin and Rachel didn’t show enough.”

“And when you finally had the body to work a sexy Tarzan outfit, nobody appreciated it,” Rachel crows. Ryan smacks her arm. “What? It’s true!”

“Because none of the gay boys in this school enjoy Jason’s company,” Derek says flatly. “He’s a douchenozzle.”

“A hot douchenozzle,” Ryan says. “Trust me, I went for the eye candy, not the people.”

“If there was a Mr. Superficiality contest,” Derek starts to say, but Ryan just glares at him.

“I get this enough from my sister already, looks are kinda important to me? And then the intelligence and personality and shit.”

“Mhmm,” Rachel hums. “Right.”

“Well since this has turned into the Make Fun of Ryan hour, I’m going to biology early. Lord knows hanging out with Mr. Angelli is far more rewarding than hanging out with you two.” Ryan picks up his bag. “I’ll see you after school.”

“Keep your pants on!” Rachel calls after him. Derek looks at her.

“Is he _actually_ …?” he asks. Rachel snorts as she flips a page in her textbook.

“No, Angelli is like, Ryan’s favorite teacher. He likes talking to him. And _only_ talking to him, because Angelli is _married_ and Ryan is very aware of this.”

* * *

 

 As soon as Derek gets out of his car and into the house, he’s greeted by the storm of flailing limbs that is Stiles.

“Hey Derek, do you have your costume all picked out?” he asks. Derek nods, pointing at the red and white striped hat on the kitchen table.

“I made sure to get started on that one a couple weeks ago,” he says. Stiles beams at him before producing a blue wig from thin air.

“This is what Scott and I will be wearing,” he says. Derek smirks at him.

“And speaking of Scott, where is he? I need to tell you guys something before we go tonight.”

Scott tears down the stairs and flies into the kitchen in a red onesie, a clumsy “Thing 1” scrawled onto a white circle pinned to the chest. Stiles covers his face with his hands.

“Scott, you ruined the surprise of our costume,” he whines.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Derek says, “Rachel and Ryan will be coming with us tonight.”

“Awesome!” Scott chirps, bouncing in place. “They’re really cool.” Stiles frowns slightly before schooling his face into an unreadable expression.

“Is that okay, Stiles?” Derek asks. Stiles nods slowly. “Alright then, I’m going to do some homework—does dinner at around six sound good?”

“Yup!” Scott says as he races back up the stairs. “C’mon Stiles, we still have to put the finishing touches on our costumes!”

Stiles considers Derek for a moment before crossing his arms and walking back up the stairs. Derek has never been so confused by a sixth grader in his entire life.

* * *

 

 The sheriff stops by the house at around 5:30ish. Derek lets him in and then directs him to the kitchen.

“Mom made us stuff, so we don’t have to go out this year,” he explains, pulling some dishes out of the refrigerator.

“Well, that was very thoughtful of her,” the sheriff says as he places his bags on the table. “These will go perfectly with the pie that I got.”

Dinner is mostly uneventful. Stiles and Scott talk about the houses that they’re going to hit up this year, which routes to take to get the most candy in the least amount of time, and which candies to trade.

“Remember, Reese’s are mine,” Stiles says in between mouthfuls of food. “Because peanut butter and chocolate are the best thing to happen to this world.”

“This means that I get all your 3 Musketeers,” Scott says.

“Derek gets all the Warheads!” Stiles chirps before looking at Derek and smiling widely. Derek attempts to grin back before looking back down at his plate.

“Thanks,” he says. “You’re so thoughtful.”

* * *

 

 Rachel and Ryan show up at 7. Rachel’s bus sign barely fits through the door and Ryan’s zombie makeup is so convincing that Derek thinks he might fall apart at any moment.

“We should probably get going as soon as possible, before Ryan decays on the carpet,” Derek jokes.

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious,” Ryan deadpans, rolling his eyes. “Where’s your costume?”

Derek holds up a black and white shirt with a garish red bowtie. “No cat ears or whiskers this year,” he says with a grin. “I do have a giant hat, though.”

“Are you themed with both Scott and Stiles’ costumes?” Rachel asks.

“It makes them happy,” Derek explains weakly. “Scott, Stiles, are you guys ready?”

The boys zoom down the stairs, twin blurs of blue and red.

“We’re ready, we’re ready!” Stiles says, bouncing on his feet. “Whoa, Ryan you look awesome!”

“Thanks dude,” Ryan says, offering Stiles a fist. Stiles knuckle-bumps it with his own. “You and Scott look pretty awesome yourselves.”

“Thanks,” Scott says. “Rachel, why do you have a bus sign?”

“It’s so I can beat up anyone who tries to take our candy,” she says, laughing. “Now, is everyone ready to go?”

* * *

 

 Mrs. Villalobo’s house is first, and she seems very entertained with the new additions to the group.

“Well little missy, you might have to use your sign on that zombie over there if he causes you any problems,” she whispers conspiratorially as she hands Derek, Rachel, and Ryan king size candy bars.

“Oh, he won’t,” Rachel replies airily. “I’m sure my brother will have tons of fun causing problems for the unruly people though.”

“Make sure he scares away the people who egg my mailbox,” Mrs. Villalobo says. “I would ask Derek to do it, but he’s not very frightening this year.”

Derek chuckles. “Batman is off duty,” he says. “But the Cat in the Hat is here to solve any other problems you may have!”

Mrs. Villalobo laughs heartily. “Well, I’ll let you kids get back to your fun. Happy Halloween!”

“Happy Halloween!” Scott and Stiles say as they wave merrily.

“Well, she’s nice,” Ryan says as they walk down the driveway back to the main road. Rachel nods in agreement. “She also gave us giant candy bars.”

“She has a soft spot for people who look out for their family,” Derek says, as they watch Scott and Stiles zoom off down the street. “Scott, Stiles, slow down!”

The boys don’t hear him though, and they veer off to the right, suddenly obscured by trees and bushes. “Dammit,” Derek curses. “We need to go catch up.”

When they do reach the corner, the boys are nowhere to be seen.

“Where could they have gone?” Ryan asks, picking at the fake blood all over his cheek. “I don’t see any sign of them near any of the houses.”

“Do you think they might have gone down near the park?” Rachel asks. “There are a few houses down that way and I’ve heard that they give out a lot of candy.”

“Sure, let’s check,” Derek says as they start walking. “How did you even hear that?”

“A lot of our classmates live in your neighborhood, Derek,” Rachel replies as she shifts her bus sign mace. “I hear things.”

“Nobody really lives where we live,” Ryan adds. “There are a couple people, but they don’t tend to go trick-or-treating.”

The three walk in silence until they’re passing the park, swings creaking quietly in the light breeze. A couple of kids walk by in normal street clothes, holding what look suspiciously like Scott and Stiles’ candy bags under their arms.

“That was too easy,” one of them says. His dirty blond hair is flooped over his head in a sad attempt at a skater cut. His friend laughs, brown hair covered by a thin beanie.

“Did you see the matching costumes?” he says in between breaths. “Who even _does_ that anymore?”

“I think we know where the boys are,” Ryan says, cracking his knuckles. “How should we play this game?”

Rachel looks at Derek, who winks at the both of them. “Let’s get this party started,” he says, approaching the two boys. “Hi! Nice night isn’t it?”

“Um, hey,” Beanie Head says.

“Do we know you?” Skater Boy asks. Derek shakes his head and bares his teeth in a lupine grin.

“You might know someone that we’re looking for though,” Ryan says, smirking.

“Yeah,” Rachel says, hefting her bus sign off her shoulder. “That someone is the garbage.”

* * *

 

 Ryan’s the one to spot the boys, sitting glumly on the curb near one of the houses on the end of the next street over. Their blue wigs are in their hands.

“Hey Derek,” he calls. “I think I found them!”

Derek races towards the boys, Rachel and Ryan hot on his heels.

 “What are you two losers doing looking so down?” Derek asks. Scott and Stiles look up at Derek sadly before noticing the things in his hands. “Let me guess—you were looking for these.”

The boys’ faces light up as they leap to their feet.

“How did you get them back?!” Scott asks, barreling into Derek’s chest for a hug. Stiles follows suit, smothering his face in Derek’s side.

“I did _not_ get them back,” Derek grumbles, looking to Rachel and Ryan for help escaping the tangle of limbs. “I found these lying around near the trash, you guys should be more careful next time!”

“Your brother’s lucky that we saw them,” Ryan says, putting a hand on his hip. “We could’ve walked right past and not noticed.”

“You two should stop hanging around trash,” Rachel says, taking the bus sign off her shoulder and planting the pole firmly on the ground. “Derek was really worried.”

“We weren’t hanging out with them though!” Scott protests. Derek huffs.

“Avoid them, okay?” he says sternly, giving Scott and Stiles their candy bags back.

“But Derek,” Stiles starts to say before Derek cuts him off.

“No buts! Let’s head home.”

* * *

 

 Rachel and Ryan peel off near the park to check up on the bullies before rejoining the group.

“Safe and sound,” Ryan says. Rachel giggles.

“It’s a good thing we came along, isn’t it Derek?”

Derek rolls his eyes and sighs. “Yeah, I’m glad you two were here with me. It sure made finding the candies a lot easier.”

“Hey, we should get a picture!” Ryan says. “When we get back to your place so that way your mom can take it for us, but we should definitely get a picture! I had a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, it’s not like you get to beat up a couple of loser freshmen every holiday,” Derek says drily. “But sure, we can take a picture when we get back to my place.”

* * *

 

 Mom, of course, eats up the idea and snaps a picture of the five of them.

“You should send this to Laura, she’d love it!” she says. “Rachel, Ryan, will you both be okay getting home?”

“Yeah,” Ryan says, gesturing to his car in the driveway. “I drove us here, and we’ll be careful driving home—I know there are still lots of kids out.”

“Well, tell your parents I said hi,” Mom says, waving after them.

* * *

 

Derek sends Laura the picture as he’s getting ready for bed.

_< < That is how you go as a cat during Halloween, Laura._

_> > No whiskers, not a cat, Derek._

_< < You only had the ears on!_

_> > No, YOU only had the ears on. I have [photographic evidence ](http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mbr7w3gi971qjtblu.jpg)that I am keeping FOREVER_

_< < I hate you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on tumblr (whereisthebepis) if you'd like to join me for funny junk and hot menz.


	6. Civvies (or, the one where the reproductive cycle is NOT TO BE SHOWN WITH A BICYCLE EVEN THOUGH IT IS A GOOD PUN)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reproductive cycle. It's a great way to get around. Or, the one where Scott and Derek finally agree on something, much to Stiles' chagrin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (If you get the reference in the summary, you get one million nothing. If you don't get this reference, you probably think I'm a giant weirdo, and that is pretty much okay with me. I mean, you're here reading this anyway so I have nothing left to ask for.)  
> http://indecentdrawer.tumblr.com/post/34371218214/stiles-were-just-concerned

* * *

 

Mom doesn’t say anything until Derek gets back from school for the evening.

“Both Scott and Stiles are sick,” she announces when he walks into the house, twirling his keys around his finger.

“You couldn’t have said anything _earlier_?” Derek whines as he shuts the door. “I literally drove 2 hours on a _Thursday_.”

“What do you have to miss?” Mom asks smartly before handing Derek a pan. “Now, help your mom out with dinner. I’m happy to see you too.”

“It’s good to be back, Mom,” Derek sighs as he follows her into the kitchen.

* * *

 

 Scott is splayed out across the couch, tissues in hand and a growing mountain in the trash can.

“Hey Der’k,” he says, nose plugged with snot. He blows rather vigorously, the wet squishing making Derek flinch. “What are you doig back?”

Derek sighs before setting down a cup of tea for Scott on the end table. “Mom didn’t tell me you guys were sick, so I made the trek back expecting to take you guys out for Halloween.”

“What?!” Scott says, sitting up quickly. “Dude, we are old enough to go out for Halloween without a chaperone.”

“I did promise you that one year,” Derek says wryly, poking at Scott’s shins with his toes. “This is tradition.”

“Well, you didn’t have to come home just to keep up the tradition when we’re more than old enough to go ourselves,” Scott mumbles.

“It’s a _tradition_ ,” Derek enunciates, resisting the urge to throw the tissue box at his brother. “Now drink that tea, and then you’re having chicken noodle soup for dinner.”

* * *

 

 The sheriff brings Stiles over during dinner time, taking the opportunity to catch some of Melissa’s famous cold-curing chicken noodle soup before rushing out for the evening shift.

“Thanks for coming back, Derek,” Mom tells him as they wash the dishes together. Scott and Stiles sit miserably on the couch in the living room, each nursing a box of tissues and a cup of tea. “It’s actually been kinda lonely for us here.”

“Dad got sent off somewhere crazy again?” Derek asks as he places bowls into the dishwasher.

“Dad got sent to the Middle East for news coverage there,” Mom replies, tightening her hold on the sponge in her hand, looking almost comical with suds up the length of her forearms. “He’s supposed to be back in a few weeks, but there isn’t a day that I worry about him.”

“Mom, he’ll be okay,” Derek says, taking the sponge from her and squeezing her in a hug. “You go rest, I’ll finish the dishes and look after the boys.”

Mom wipes her hands and brushes something out of her eyelashes. “Thanks, Derek. Like I said, I’m really glad you’re home.”

Stiles comes into the kitchen as Mom leaves, placing his cup near the sink. Derek cocks an eyebrow at him. “I’m not washing your germy cup.”

“I am _sick_ ,” Stiles moans, flailing his arms for dramatic effect. “Humor me, I’m going to die.”

“Aren’t we all,” Derek mutters. “You can just stick that in the dishwasher, it’s really not too much effort.”

“Is that how you treat a dying person?” Stiles asks, picking up the cup and pulling out the top rack of the dishwasher. “I fear for your future spouse. When they get sick, there’ll be no sympathy from you at all.”

Derek rolls his eyes and continues to scrub at a rather stubborn stain on a pot. “Well, good thing you’re not my husband.”

Stiles just gapes at him before returning to his spot on the couch, moaning. Derek finishes the dishes and dabs his hands on the dish rag, throwing a bag of popcorn into the microwave.

“What movie do you losers wanna watch?” he calls. “I’m making popcorn.”

“Nightmare Before Christmas,” Stiles shouts back. Scott just groans in agreement before flopping over. “What? It’s a Christmas/Halloween twofer!”

“Claymation is the worst,” Scott whines. Derek rolls his eyes again, opening the microwave door and gingerly removing the popcorn bag.

“Deal with it, little bro,” he says, sitting down in the arm chair furthest from the couch. “You may only take popcorn after I’ve taken my share from the bowl.”

Scott scowls, or attempts to, and ends up looking like a rather angry puppy. Which, really, is more amusing than fearsome.

“Ugh, this _blows_ ,” he sighs, throwing his arm over his forehead in a melodramatic pose. “We’re sick on _Halloween_.”

“Hey,” Derek says in between bites of popcorn, “I’m the one who had to skip parties and drive two hours home to take care of my sick brother on Halloween.”

“And Stiles,” Stiles adds, raising his hand.

“And Stiles,” Derek says, tossing another handful of popcorn in his mouth.

“Screw you, Derek!” Scott says. “Nobody wants you here anyway.”

Derek frowns. “I mean, I could just leave. We don’t have to watch the movie, I was trying to be nice. No popcorn for you, I guess.”

“Scott, not cool,” Stiles says, shielding his face. “Also, spit. Spit dude, it’s the worst.” He fidgets for a moment. “How about if I want popcorn?”

Derek pauses for a beat and gets up to find another bowl. “Sure, Barfy McGee.”

Scott sighs loudly. “Well, at least this way nobody will see Stiles’ costume.”

Derek almost drops trips into the stove. “What?”

“The reproductive cycle,” Scott says. “He made some weird costume and then was going to ride around on a bike, because it was a _cycle_.”

“Hey,” Stiles says, throwing his arms up. “It was _funny_.”

“I think I have to agree with Scott here,” Derek says, returning with a smaller bowl. He pours some popcorn into it, hands it to Stiles, and then stands up to find the Nightmare Before Christmas DVD. “I’m almost 100% positive that nobody would want to see anything genital related on Halloween night.”

“But it _wasn’t_ genital related!” Stiles protests. “It was the development of a baby into an adult!”

“Even creepier,” Derek responds, opening the DVD player and placing the disc inside.

“I hate you both,” Stiles says as the movie starts. “This is the worst Halloween ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on tumblr at whereisthebepis.tumblr.com! Come join me for silliness and dicks!


	7. Castiel (or, the one where Derek and Stiles watch a spaghetti western)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles are popular. And then, Stiles isn't. But everyone loves spaghetti westerns!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://indecentdrawer.tumblr.com/post/34440699475/someones-pants-were-on-fire  
> I strayed from the original comic a little, but all in the name of a good story. I mean, y'all aren't really here for accuracy, are you?
> 
> (oh shit, you are. i shouldn't have said anything)

* * *

Derek doesn’t even bother waiting for Mom to text him a _Halloween?_ , he just bids his friends a quick adieu and heads home for Halloween weekend. He does make sure to Ryan and Rachel if they’ll be back from Berkeley and UCLA, respectively, but they decline.

_> > I’d love to be home, Derek, but I can’t dedicate that time to driving all the way from Berkeley. If I were at Davis with you, I’d say yes in a heartbeat. Halloween with you that one year was a blast._

_> >If LA weren’t made of traffic, then yes I’d try to drive home. But you know and I know that LA will never stop being itself, and so I have to miss Halloween with you. Maybe one year I’ll go up to Davis and party?_

Derek sighs as he pulls into the driveway. Home is quiet, much quieter than campus. As he opens the car door, his keys jangle in the still air, disturbing a few birds out of the neighboring trees. Derek sighs again as he walks into the house.

“Mom, I’m home,” he calls. He shifts his duffle bag across his shoulder before walking towards the stairs. He can hear video game noises and snorts. Unsurprisingly, Stiles is over. Stiles gasps when he realizes Derek is in the room.

“Oh my god, we forgot to tell you that we got invited to Lydia’s party!” he says, slinging himself over the back of the couch. Scott grunts in annoyance. “So, as a result, no trick-or-treating.” Scott bats at Stiles’ foot.

“Stiles. Game. C’mon.”

“Well hello to you as well,” Derek says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “And congratulations on being invited to Lydia’s, it looks like you both are finally moving up in the world!”

Stiles beams at him. “I know, right?”

“ _Stiles_ ,” Scott groans. “We were playing a _game_ , we are _still_ playing a game, _please_.”

Stiles, of course, ignores him. “Anyway, sorry we forgot to tell you about it. You didn’t have to drive all the way home for us.”

Derek huffs before patting Stiles on the head. “Nah, it’s okay. Campus is a shit show during Halloween—it’s nice that I have the weekend to escape it.” Scott grunts again.

“Stiles.”

“Better go back to taking care of my brother, he’s a mess without you,” Derek says lightly, moving towards the staircase. “I’m sure I’ll see you before I leave on Sunday.”

“Bye!” Stiles says brightly. Scott just mutters under his breath.

* * *

 Halloween night arrives and for once, Derek’s is quiet. The boys are out at their party, Mom is out working, and there haven’t been many trick-or-treaters. That may have been due to the fact that Derek kept most of the lights off, but nobody has to know. He does leave the light at the front door on, along with the bowl of candy outside on the steps so as to deter children from approaching the doorbell.  He’s chugging away on his movie assignment for his Wild West cinema class when a loud chime breaks through whatever Clint Eastwood is saying. Derek frowns as he rewinds the clip and attempts to play it again.

The doorbell interrupts him once more.

Derek groans, picking himself up off the ground. He’s dressed lazily in a makeshift Castiel costume in case anyone had the nerve to ring the doorbell, tie unkempt and trenchcoat fully unbuttoned. He swings the door open to find Stiles dressed in a toga.

“Trick or treat?” Stiles says hesitantly. “Um, can I come in?”

Derek steps aside wordlessly as he lets Stiles walk across the threshold. “I thought you were at a party.”

“Scott is with this girl that he’s been mooning over at school for the past _forever_ ,” Stiles grumps, heading to the living room and flopping down in front of the television. “I was going to play wingman, but then the baby bird learned how to fly on his own.”

“So… you’re here,” Derek says, still confused as he sits down next to Stiles. “In a toga.”

Stiles just looks at him. “I originally wanted Scott and I to go as Sam and Dean from Supernatural, but Scott said that people wouldn’t have believed that I was in a real costume. So he made us go as Roman soldiers.” He pauses for a breath. “Your costume’s pretty dead-on.”

Derek finds his mouth twitching upwards in a vague semblance of a smile. “Thanks,” he says. “I’m not a huge fan of the show, but I’ve seen a couple episodes. It’s… interesting.”

“Oh trust me,” Stiles says, digging for a Reese’s in Derek’s backup candy bowl, “the leads are mega eye candy. Dean is played by Jensen Ackles and oh my god, please have my adopted children like yesterday.”

Derek nods silently, taking a bite out of the Milky Way bar he’d been nibbling on before Stiles had crashed his movie party.

“Well, I can’t promise anything in the way of Supernatural, but I _am_ watching _A Fistful of Dollars_ for my Westerns cinema class if you’d like to join me.”

“Ooh,” Stiles says, finishing off a peanut butter cup, “That sounds like fun. I’ve never watched any of Clint Eastwood’s stuff.”

“I have to apologize in advance, there’ll be a lot of pausing and rewinding because I have to write an essay on landscaping and shit.”

Stiles shrugs as he reaches for another piece of candy. “It’s not like I have anything fun to do tonight.”

* * *

 Derek finishes taking notes about an hour later and settles back against the couch. “You ready to watch the whole thing all the way?” he asks.

Stiles nods, eyes bright. “Considering I missed most of the movie already, yeah!”

The movie opens onto the screen and Derek fishes a box of Dots out of the bowl, popping one into his mouth. Stiles is fixated on the lights that splash across the screen, raptly focused on the showdown between the Man With No Name and four gunmen in San Miguel. At the same moment that shots are fired, Mom slams the door wide open, causing both of them to jump.

“Oh my god,” Stiles breathes as he clutches at Derek’s arm. “Oh my god that was such awful timing.”

“What,” Melissa says flatly as she closes the door. “Stiles, I thought you were with Scott at Lydia’s party.”

“Scott’s with Allison,” Stiles says as he relaxes, still not letting go of Derek’s arm. Derek looks at Stiles’ hands bemusedly before looking up at Mom.

“Hey,” he says weakly. “I was finishing up my notes for my spaghetti Western class.”

Mom eyes him cautiously before dashing for the stairs. “I’m going to get out of my scrubs, and then we’re going to watch this because I love me some Clint Eastwood.”

* * *

 Scott comes home around one in the morning, smiling and giggling at his phone. Stiles and Derek stare at him as he walks through the doorway.

“What?” he says, raising his shoulders. “What?”

“Glad to hear you had such a great time at the party,” Stiles harrumphs, leaning back against the couch. “You made your brother and mom have to entertain me.”

“You could have gone home,” Derek points out, but Stiles waves a hand dismissively at him. Mom rolls her eyes.

“Does your dad know you’re here?” she asks, folding her arms. Stiles nods, brandishing his phone.

“The power of texting!” he says. Scott’s phone vibrates and he glances at it before giggling again.

“I’m going to bed. G’night everyone,” he says before dashing up the stairs. Mom rolls her eyes again.

“I should get to bed as well,” she says, standing up and stretching. “You two don’t stay up too late. Derek, you have to drive back tomorrow, don’t forget.”

“Yeah Mom,” he says as she kisses him on the cheek. “G’night.”

“G’night Melissa!” Stiles says as Mom walks up the stairs. Mom just yawns in response. Stiles is quiet for a bit before turning back to Derek, his face pale in the light of the television. “So…”

“So,” Derek parrots. Stiles stares at him for a few seconds before blushing and turning away.

“I think I’m going to go get ready for bed. Night Derek, thanks for letting me watch this with you.”

“Night, Stiles,” Derek says as Stiles races up the stairs. He scratches his head confusedly as he cleans up his stuff. What even just happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to see more of my general weirdness, come find me on tumblr (whereisthebepis)!


	8. Civvies, revisited (or, the one where Stiles is confused as to what gifts should do and Derek's boner is generally confused)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott: Stiles! Derek just sent “NO”! Like multiple times. It won’t stop. Just texts of “NO”s.  
> Stiles: Well, Derek is a butt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is absolutely shitty, I apologize, I really do. I am slowly making my way through the giant backlog (I'm on page 23 of the McCall-Hale tags on Aidi's blog because I am an awful human) and yeah. Hope this is enjoyable... (in case you're not aware, all art is done by Aidi of indecentdrawer.tumblr.com because she is amazing and together we have birthed this weird monster that for some reason people like)

* * *

 

Derek ultimately decides not to go back for Halloween, mainly because it falls on an inconvenient day of the week. He makes sure to tell Mom when he gets up that he’s not coming home, and that he misses her. He also makes sure to tell Stiles, who responds with a mopey _:(_ which makes Derek chuckle.

_> > You’re sure you can’t come home even for a little bit?_

_< < Sorry Stiles, it’s just super inconvenient this year. I did send you something though…_

_> > Is it candy?_

_< < I’m not sure what else you should be expecting on this “holiday”_

_> >Well, now I have to get you a present as well_

* * *

 

 The morning drags by slowly. Old English takes its Olde Time and Derek nearly passes out in class, even though he’s sitting right next to the professor. She looks at him quizzically before continuing the discussion on the Canterbury Tales. The talking drones on monotonously, until class is suddenly over. Derek trudges to his next class, History of the British Empire, and plops unceremoniously into a seat next to his roommate, Jack.

“Ugh,” he says, simply. “Why is this morning so _slow_.”

Jack shrugs, munching on a granola bar. “Cheer up dude,” he says. “Just think about the parties we’ll hit up tonight!”

Derek sinks lower into his chair, placing his cellphone onto his desk. “Because you know me, absolute party animal.”

Jack tosses a piece of granola at him. “Hey, I know you have your boyfriend back home, but that’s never a reason to pass up a good party. Omega Lambda Phi is doing a Howl-oween thing.”

Derek rolls his eyes as he hoists himself back up into a poorly postured sitting position. “My sister told me that Howl-oween always gets shut down at like 11.”

“Which is why we go to Howl-oween, drink for free, and then go out and do _other_ shit,” Jack says, flipping a hand in a why-didn’t-you-know-that gesture. “Dude, there’s tons of things we can do.”

“Because Davis is chock full of activities,” Derek mutters as the professor walks in. “Goddamn.”

* * *

 

 Halfway through lecture, Derek’s phone starts buzzing almost nonstop. There’s a stream of frantic sounding texts from Scott punctuated every so often by a strange picture message from Stiles.

_From: Scott (dumbass)_

_> >Ohmygod_

_> >Ohmygod Derek_

_> >Derek you need to stop him_

_> >I’m not sure how or why this started happening_

_> >But you need to stop_

_> >The shop owner has taken a liking to Stiles and for the love of all that is holy, please_

_> >PLEASE GOD_

_From: Stiles_

_> >I don’t understand, why do only the girls get to wear sexy costumes?_

Derek can feel impending embarrassment and doom, but he really can’t help himself. He starts to swipe through the pictures.

Stiles is standing in a rather drab-looking police uniform, arms over his head in some vague approximation of a softball pitching pose. A pair of stupid-looking cuffs dangle from his belt, and his shorts… show three-quarters of his thighs. Derek blinks before looking to his left and right and scrolling to the next picture.

Stiles is rocking out in a French maid outfit, complete with thigh garters, a corset, and a feather duster. Derek can feel his cheeks flushing and a smile touching his lips, laughter threatening to bubble out of him at any moment. Still, he presses onward.

He nearly loses it at the next one—Stiles is flexing an arm at the camera with a rather dour look on his face, wearing a crop top and fluorescent yellow shorts held up at a jaunty angle by some rather exciting suspenders. Next is a cat dress, a Frank 'N Furter costume, Tinkerbell, Mrs. Claus, a sexy Viking warrior (Derek stares a little at his phone in confusion. Stiles’ _yeah, I don’t know either_ doesn’t really help anything), a baroness, a sexy doctor, lumberjack, and then finally, a cowboy. 

Derek doesn’t know how to feel. It’s his boyfriend in the stupid outfits, which is a turn-on, but then the costumes look absolutely hideous. And awful. And bad. And did he mention awful? Because they really do. But yet, he’s rocking a raging hard-on, and it’s embarrassingly obvious. Of course, that’s when lecture ends. Naturally, because Derek has the worst luck. It’s hard to be Derek McCall-Hale, people. He should write an autobiography. Or maybe a survival guide.

“Dude, are you coming to lunch?” Jack asks, standing next to him with his backpack slung over a shoulder. “Pizza today.”

“You have pizza almost every day,” Derek groans, burying his head in his arms in either shame or mortification (hint: it’s both). “And I can’t go just yet.”

“What?” Jack says, face curious.

“I. Can’t. Go. Just. Yet,” Derek grits out, turning his phone over. “If I get up now, things will be very not okay.”

“Um…” Jack says. “Okay? I’ll see you in the dining hall then?”

“Yeah,” Derek says. “I’ll catch up with you.”

Jack heads towards the door, and Derek just stares down at his lap.

“Why?” he asks, gesturing to his crotch. “Why?”

_To: dumbass_

_< <Oh my god no_

_< <Please god no_

_< <No_

_< <No to this one as well_

_< <NO_

_< <AREN’T YOU GUYS SUPPOSED TO BE IN SCHOOL_

_< <GODDAMMIT_

_To: Stiles_

_< <If this is your idea of a Halloween gift I think you are sorely misguided_

_< <My boner is so confused and you suck_

_< <NOT LIKE THAT_

_< <JESUS FUCK_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you see, turn off your TV and follow (whereisthebepis.tumblr.com)!  
> [I may have dated myself because if there are some of you heathens here that don't know ZOOM!, please go educate yourselves. Wubbe cubban't bubbe frubbiends ubbuntubbil yubbou dubbo.]  
> MEANWHILE, I CAN SPEAK UBBEE DUBBEE LIKE A MASTER


	9. Cop (or, the one where Derek is not jealous, no sir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The saga reaches a thrilling conclusion...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my butt I am so tired hope you guys enjoy this one  
> All art by Aidi (indecentdrawer.tumblr.com)!

Derek gets the hell home for Halloween because after last year’s costuming debacle, he needs to make sure Stiles doesn’t get any strange ideas in his head. That, and why would he turn down a reason to see his boyfriend?

Stiles answers that question by yelling very loudly at Scott when Derek walks in the door. “Your brother is home and I am going to ride that dick like it’s my job!”

Derek wishes to the high heavens that he hadn’t come home. Mom swoops by and gives him a kiss on the cheek, whispering, “Make sure to use protection,” before slipping out the door like a fish through a clumsy fisherman’s hands. Derek’s blushing madly as the door snicks closed.

“Please don’t talk about my brother’s genitals like they’re candy,” Scott moans draping himself across the couch. “This is the worst.”

“Don’t talk to me about Allison for a week then,” Stiles says as Derek moves to squish in with him on the armchair. “And Derek, do _not_ play the smushy cuddle game with me when we have your bed.”

“Then don’t talk about my genitals like they’re candy,” Derek snorts, standing up and grabbing his bag. He starts up the stairs, looking over the railing at Stiles. “You coming?”

“Please, make him leave,” Scott gags, turning over on the furniture. “I will buy your cereal for the next time you’re home, please just make him stop talking about your dick.”

“I don’t _want_ him talking about my dick with you,” Derek snaps back from the top of the stairs. Stiles just laughs as he follows Derek to his room.

“Hi,” he says, giving Derek a smooch before settling on his bed. “I missed you.”

“Me, or just a specific part of me?” Derek asks, cocking an eyebrow. Stiles laughs again. “Anyway, what are you going as this Halloween?”

Stiles puts his arms behind his head and leans himself against Derek’s headboard. “Scott recently watched Star Wars with Allison and so he wanted stormtroopers.”

Derek snorts, rolling his eyes as he pulls his laptop out of his bag and sets it on his desk.  “Well that sounds kinda lame if you ask me.”

Stiles makes vague noises of protest while Derek continues to unpack some of his things. “Dude, that’s not cool, he’s my best friend!”

“Well, he’s my little brother and I can say pretty much whatever I want about him,” Derek says, pausing in emptying his bag to slither up his bed towards Stiles. “I think you should go as a wolf. You were so cute that one year.”

“Dude,” Stiles says, crossing his arms, “I was like seven, that’s gross.”

Derek smirks as he flicks at the hem of Stiles’ t-shirt, pulling his own over his head. “Well, I _think_ I might be able to help you see differently.”

Stiles groans as Derek continues to crawl up his body, palming Derek’s abs with one hand and squeezing his ass through his jeans with the other. “I feel that things aren’t quite fair in this discussion and I hate you.”

“Sure you do,” Derek says from where he’s mouthing at Stiles’ neck. “What do you want _me_ to go as?”

“How ‘bout a cop,” Stiles says between moans. “And let’s not discuss how this potentially crosses over into daddy issue territory because I have none of those.”

Derek answers him with a nip of his ear. “You should tell Scott his plan is off.

“You’re probably going to need to get off me for me to do that,” Stiles says, scrabbling for his cellphone. “It’s hard to tell your best friend that you’re stomping all over his plans when your entire boyfriend is crushing your ribcage.”

Scott, predictably, is not pleased.

“Derek, I’m not buying you cereal and I’m eating all the yogurt I bought for you,” he shouts from the living room, manfully resisting the urge to chuck a game controller at the two of them at the top of the stairs. “Also Stiles, this friendship is over!”

“He did defend your honor if that means anything,” Derek supplies unhelpfully. Stiles smacks him on the arm.

“Because Stiles’ protests mean so much when making out is involved,” Scott snarks back, voice ricocheting off the walls. “I’m going to go steal your yogurt.”

* * *

 

Lydia opens the door to her house, clad in a bow-tied Playboy bunny outfit. “Well come in!” she says, sliding against the doorframe while swaying her tray of punch glasses to precisely counterbalance her action. “Don’t you _dare_ spill any of this on the carpet, my mom just had it steamed.”

“Yeah happy Halloween to you too,” Stiles mutters, pulling Derek into the house.

“It is an _important_ concern, Stiles,” Lydia says sharply before sashaying towards her backyard. Derek and Stiles follow her, running into Boyd, Erica, and Isaac on the way.

“Oh, hey guys! You remember Derek, right? Kinda,” Stiles says, flailing his hands a little. “Well Boyd, you’ve heard of him.”

“Sup man,” Boyd says stoically, sipping punch from his glass.

“Any chance of a repeat performance?” Erica asks, catlike even in a musketeer outfit. “It was so beautiful the first time.”

Isaac shudders, collapsing inwards on himself. “Oh god, I hope not. Please say no.”

Derek takes the moment of awkwardness to steer himself away and out of the conversation. “I’m, um, going to go get drinks. Over there.”

“Oh, look there’s Scott!” Stiles says, dragging Derek forcefully away from the three musketeers to where his brother is dressed as prepubescent Wolverine. Allison is standing next to him in a Catwoman costume. “Hey! I’m going to go get us drinks, mind looking after your brother for me?”

“What?” Scott and Derek ask in unison. Stiles just weaves his way through the crowd to the punch table. He’s about to ladle himself another glassful of the delicious concoction when he notices Jackson glaring at him across from the punchbowl.

“Wait, I loved that show,” he says, picking up on Jackson’s blue and yellow letterman’s coat. Jackson scowls before shoving a Little Red Riding Hood costume at Stiles’ chest.

“You need to change,” he says. “This party isn’t dorky enough to have a stupid wolf costume.”

“Have you _seen_ half of the people here,” Stiles replies flatly, holding his hand out for the clothes. “Why do you even have these with you anyway?”

“They were for Lydia,” Jackson says, looking at the floor. “But then she changed her mind, and I’m not wasting my money on this shitty costume for it not to be worn.”

“And you couldn’t have had some other girl wear it,” Stiles says, still holding the clothes limply in his hands. “Really.”

“Let’s just say that it’d be funnier if you did,” Jackson says. “And if you do, I promise I won’t tell your boyfriend about all the hot, angry sex you and Danny are having.”

Stiles’ face scrunches up in confusion. “Wait, what? Danny and I are not—” but by then, Jackson has vanished into the crowd, the sneaky bastard. Stiles sighs, heading to the bathroom to change. He immediately gets handed a drink by someone upon exiting in his new costume. The guy is very, very into him and Stiles feels himself getting trapped into the conversation as he gets asked question after question.

“Y’know, I actually have to get back to my  _boyfriend_ ,” he says, edging slightly towards the side of the room where Derek is waiting.

“I’m sure he can wait,” the guy says, putting a hand on Stiles’ forearm. Suddenly, Derek is  _there_  and dragging him bodily away.

“What is _up_ with you, Mr. Sexy Cop?” Stiles asks, attempting (poorly) to not spill any of the punch on Derek’s arms.

“What happened to your wolf costume?” Derek growls angrily, gripping Stiles’ red cape. “You need to change back, you look ridiculous!”

Stiles looks at Derek quizzically before looking down at Derek’s hands and then at the guy across the way. The guy waves at him before Derek’s withering glare stops the motion of his hand. Stiles breaks into an ear-to-ear grin. “You’re jealous,” he says, putting a hand on Derek’s cheek. His skin is smooth against Derek’s stubble.

“’m not,” Derek mutters, turning into Stiles’ touch. “It’s just that guy, I got a bad impression from him.”

Stiles pulls his wolf hat onto Derek’s  head, smiling brightly. “You _know_ you have nothing to worry about, right?” he asks, kissing Derek heatedly. “I’m all yours just as you are mine, Mr. Wolf.”

Derek blushes angrily before tugging on Stiles’ hand. “Let’s get outta here.” Stiles laughs as he follows along. He waves at Danny and blows Jackson a kiss on his way out. 

“Do you think I can get a restraining order against him?” he hears Jackson say.

“Now that I don’t know,” Danny says, downing the rest of his punch. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want more of this stupid idiot? I'm on the tumblr (whereisthebepis.tumblr.com)!


	10. Commander (or, the one where we really find out what happened in the interim)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott is really secretly glad to see his brother but he'll never admit it. Ever. Not in a million years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (or, the thrilling end to the saga that is chronologically out of place but really, that's because I scrolled past it and then forgot about it until after I wrote the 2012 one and then remembered this one existed and it is somehow fitting to end the Halloween saga with it)
> 
> All art done by the amazing, glorious Aidi, my partner in crime! (indecentdrawer.tumblr.com)  
> (ETA: YO IT TOOK ME A FULL YEAR TO FINISH WRITING THIS I AM AWFUL)

Derek’s anxious to get home for Halloween. Ryan and Rachel had texted him all about the crazy shenanigans going on at Berkeley and UCLA.

_From: Ryan Liang_

_> >Ohmygod_

_> >Toilet paper. Literally everywhere. And eggs. God I have never seen so many eggs why do frat boys think this is cool._

_From: Rachel Liang_

_> >Campus is a mess. Frat bros are the worst._

And while campus isn’t actually the most appealing place to be for Halloween, Derek has yet another reason to get home.

_From: Stiles_

_> >The theme this year is military._

_< <If Scott says anything, I didn’t ask._

_> >I mean, you didn’t ask_

Of course, being the history buff that he is, Derek had acquired a rather impressive military jacket, complete with epaulets and chevrons and _everything_. He might have gone a little overboard with his costume for this year, but he’s sure that Stiles will be impressed. Like, really impressed.

He greets Mom at the door when she comes to say hello, promising that he’ll help with dinner. “They’re in Scott’s room,” she says as he heads up the stairs, the buttons on his cufflinks clinking against the wooden railing. Derek pauses outside Scott’s door to see if he can hear any conversation going before bursting in.

“Trick or treat,” he says drily. Stiles waves brightly at him from Scott’s bed. Scott just frowns.

“What,” he says flatly as he attempts to push Derek out of the doorway. “When did you come home?”

Derek shoves back on the door in opposition of Scott. It’s a losing battle on Scott’s end. “Is that really the way to treat your brother who drove two hours back to take you guys out?”

“Go back to college!” Scott howls, attempting to heave the door closed with his back. “It’s a Friday, don’t you have parties to go to?”

Derek muscles his way back into the room and gets Scott into a playful headlock, rubbing a fist fondly on his brother’s head. “These parties generally involve toilet paper, eggs, houses, and mailboxes. And sometimes the police,” he says, while Scott squirms in his arms. Stiles just watches from the bed, reading a book.

“Welcome back,” he says in between turning a page. “I like your costume.”

“Thanks,” Derek says smugly, letting Scott out from underneath his arm. “You look pretty good too.”

“Thanks chief,” Stiles says, saluting him. Scott moans from where he’s sprawled on the ground.

“How did you even know our theme? This was supposed to be a secret!” He gasps. “Stiles, did you tell him?”

“Well, he asked,” Stiles says, turning another page in his book. “Nicely, if I may add.”

“Traitor!” Scott yells, still on the floor. “You’re the worst best friend ever.”

“Where are your manners, Scott?” Derek asks, sitting on Scott’s chest. Scott hollers bloody murder, and Stiles just grins, looking at a stack of photos on Scott’s desk near his laptop.

“Let me know when you two idiots are ready to go,” he says fondly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join me on the tumblr for absolute garbage! (whereisthebepis.tumblr.com)


End file.
